


this world's not for us

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Domesticity, Established Relationship, Multi, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:49:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are different ways they touch each other -- Louis touches Harry like he wants to take care of him, Will touches Harry like he wants to destroy him, Harry touches Louis like he’s all he’s ever needed, Louis touches Will like he’s the best older brother and then a little more, Will touches Louis like he’ll tear the Earth apart to keep him happy, and Harry touches Will like he wants to keep him but knows he can’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this world's not for us

**Author's Note:**

> Because William Tomlinson is my fave dude ever, tbh. This is also your warning that there'll be a lot more fic with him in it from me in the future, probably. Title from 'Love in the Sky' by The Weeknd, but who's surprised?
> 
> Content warning for open relationships, polyamory, and non-explicit Louis/William incest.

_you’ve been here before,_   
_remember these sheets,_   
_this world’s not for us,_   
_it’s not what it seems_

-

The ceiling is cloudy now.

Well, the ceiling’s probably the same as it always was, Harry thinks distantly. Maybe just them -- just the three of them -- are cloudy, right now. Just the three of them, in this cloudy little bubble, where no one and nothing could touch them.

He’d never say it out loud, because there are two very judgemental boys on either side of him, but he thinks he really likes that idea.

“Don't be a hogger,” William murmurs into his shoulder, and, if possible, Harry’s heart grows ten million times. He knows that tone; Will sounds raspy and sated, blissed-out. “Give me the roll.”

Harry pulls it from his mouth, sliding it in between Will’s waiting fingers, and lets his head loll on his pillow to watch Will take a pull through hooded eyes. He feels the bed shift as Louis pushes himself up on his elbows, and props his chin on Harry’s bicep, probably doing the same.

He furrows his brows when Will lifts his head from his own pillow, and looks at the both of them, before smirking. He beckons Louis with the two fingers holding the roll, and, as Harry watches, sudden arousal sinking deep in his lower abdomen, the two of them lean forward until their noses bump together, long lashes nearly touching, and Will exhales the smoke into Louis’ parted mouth, before meeting him in the extra inches and kissing him sweetly.

There are different ways they touch each other -- Louis touches Harry like he wants to take care of him, Will touches Harry like he wants to destroy him, Harry touches Louis like he’s all he’s ever needed, Louis touches Will like he’s the best older brother and then a little more, Will touches Louis like he’ll tear the Earth apart to keep him happy, and Harry touches Will like he wants to keep him but knows he can’t.

Harry’s cock gets a little more full as the seconds pass, watching Will’s hand curl in Louis’ hair, protective and possessive, watching their slick lips slide together, watching the way Will’s tongue curls inside of Louis’ mouth to elicit the perfect little breathless moan.

“Pretty bloody hot,” he says -- or blurts, probably -- when they pull back, Louis’ eyes glazed over, long fringe falling over his face. Lou and the fans are always complaining about his long hair but Harry likes it a lot; it’s easier to collect in his hand, using the leverage to haul Louis into his lap and fuck him harder, and it also makes him look very pretty.

He also likes the way it looks threaded between Will’s fingers.

“I know,” Louis says, his airy voice interrupting the stream of thought. His knuckles brush against the spot where Harry’s cock has filled out in the sheets. “Already though, H? We just went.”

“Unlike you too, ‘m young,” Harry says, and crosses his arms behind his head, waggling an eyebrow at Louis. Will laughs at that, and it’s startled and free and quiet, and Harry doesn't look at him, because his heart has been mended after all the time Will hasn't been around with them, and if he looks, it’ll jut break again, and it’s too soon. He needs it whole until Will gives him the last kiss, says _take care of Lou f’me while I’m gone, yeah?_

So he focuses on how Louis sticks his tongue out at him, and not on how warm Will’s hand is when it comes to rest on his thigh, warm even through the fancy hotel-room sheets.

They stay in those same fancy hotel-room sheets for the rest of the morning, and then stay in the fancy hotel room the whole day, because they’ve got nothing to rush them and Harry wants to stay in the bubble a little longer, ignore the inevitable, like Louis, and plenty others, have always told him he tends to do.

They order room service during the afternoon, and play a few of the available video games in only their boxers, a twin on both of Harry’s sides. Their knees knock together and the sunlight streams in the room unfiltered, floor-length curtains pulled back, balcony doors partially opened.

When evening rolls over, Louis goes to shower before Will can, yelling that he’ll always be the winner over his shoulder as he shuts the doors to the ensuite, even though Harry knows why he actually -- did it. Will’s still looking over the back of the couch when Harry wraps a hand around his narrow wrist, pulling him into his lap, and kissing his palm.

“True gentleman,” Will says, raising an eyebrow, and laughs when Harry pulls him down for a desperate kiss. He’s actually -- now, right now, he’s desperate all over, because it had been brewing under his too-tight skin the whole day and now Will’s so _close_ and he’s about to shake apart with it. “Oh, love, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Don't want you to go,” Harry gasps, his hands coming to hold onto Will’s waist tightly, keeping him still as he rolls his hips up, his cock rubbing against the swell of Will’s perfect arse. “Wanna keep y’here with me ‘nd Lou, please.”

“Darling,” Will hums, and leans down so their noses bump, just like earlier. He strokes Harry’s hair back, comfortingly, and Harry leans into it a little, “I’d love that, but y’know I can’t. Got uni, and you and Lou gotta keep takin’ over the world with the other boys, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, and it sounds a little hoarse, a little like a sob. Will smiles softly, and kisses his forehead, like the elder boy he’s been taught to be.

A little later, Harry spreads him out on the bed and presses fingers into him, murmuring wet sobs into the crook of Will’s neck as Will cants his hips up and soothes him simultaneously. Louis’ kissing the back of Harry’s neck, linking the fingers of Harry’s free hand with his own, his other sweeping down Harry’ back gently.

After Will comes over his own belly, and Louis and Harry come over his quivering thighs, they clean themselves up and take turns drinking straight out a bottle of expensive red, and Will kisses sloppy marks over both their necks, giggly and flushed.

They fall asleep in the cool sheets, bodies tangled together and lips parting on breaths and hands on each others skin. Will’s tucked into Harry’s side, where he always should be, and Harry’s heart is whole, for now.


End file.
